


VOLATILE REUNIONS

by lizzybennettdarcy



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, F/M, Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzybennettdarcy/pseuds/lizzybennettdarcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wanted to look away but his eyes wouldn't leave the destruction she was reaping. He knew the moment she realised she'd pushed him too far and her body shook as she realised the consequences. It didn't stop her from ripping up one more letter though and it did nothing to stop his heart from shattering in his chest. Puckleberry and ten year reunions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So it turns out that reading break translates into writing break for me. I've spent the last two days writing this story without ever having planned to do so. There was no plan, no plotline as it began. It was simply snowing outside and I had a mental picture of Puck sitting on a swing alone in the snow. This is what followed. This story takes place in the future and is totally in canon, but since it's in the future it ends the way I want and not the way Ryan Murphy wants. Enjoy!

His breath swirled in front of him as he watched the snow fall softly in the night. He rubbed his hands together in a desperate attempt to find some warmth. Warmth was impossible it would seem when he was feeling numb in every way available.

He shouldn't have stormed out. He knew that and so did every person he'd left behind. The bottle of Jack had long since fallen from his hands and lay empty below the swing that he sat upon. He should never have come back for this reunion in the first place. He had better things to be doing than sharing what he'd been up to for the past ten years with people he hadn't bothered to stay in touch with. Lima was so far in his rear-view mirror that allowing himself to be swayed by sentimentality and  _hope_ was inexcusable. He'd known that his childhood best friend wouldn't be there as he'd been dead for most of the ten years they were supposed to be celebrating. He still spoke with the only people worth talking to so he really had no excuse.

But the chance of seeing  _her_ had been too damn tempting. And the pull that she'd had over him since high school had apparently not faded any, despite the fact that they hadn't spoken in five years. So he'd booked his vacation time and hopped a plane for the last place he wanted to be. He'd rented a hotel room because he didn't have family here anymore and he'd decided to make the best of it. He wasn't drunk enough to admit that he'd been an embarrassing mix of excited and anxious to see her again. He knew more about her life than he probably should but they had mutual friends and they all loved to gossip.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he'd bet the loose change in his wallet that it was either Sam or Blaine wondering if he'd frozen to death. He rubbed a cold hand over his scalp and it came back covered in snow. Huh. He must be drunker than he thought.

He knew that his friends were likely worried about him and he'd feel guilty about it in the morning. The two of them were the only people he'd really told about how things had ended with Rachel. He knew that Quinn and Santana had some details because they were her best friends but they'd heard  _her_ side and he'd bet that there were more than a few discrepancies between their sides.

His friendship with Blaine and Sam hadn't happened in high school. He'd liked both of them well enough back then though. He'd invited them to fight club and they'd occasionally played COD together but they weren't friends. The friendship had come later.

After he finished his first tour with the Marines he'd showed up in New York. He could have been flown anywhere but only New York had appealed. He'd found himself standing outside the loft without any conscious thought or choice. He still remembered the look of shock on Sam's face when he'd opened the big door. He wasn't the Puck that any of them remembered and he had been reminded of that when he'd walked into the living room and the roommates had all just stared at him. He'd never lacked muscle but his body was no longer just masculine; he had become a weapon. His eyes missed nothing and the alertness that had kept him alive oversees had surprised and perhaps alarmed his old friends. Rachel had stepped forward with tears in her eyes and welcomed him into their home. Blaine had quickly followed. Kurt had been wary of him and given their last meeting he couldn't blame him. Sam had accepted him just as easily as he'd always accepted everyone.

He'd been invited to stay and saying no had never occurred to him. His mother and sister had moved to warmer climates and he had no interest in being anywhere else. He'd worked as a bouncer in a few clubs while interviewing at various recording studios. He had worked hard and avoided spending time at the loft at first. His old classmates seemed unsure of how to treat him. He was no longer the boy they'd gone to school with but he wasn't particularly forthcoming with the person he'd become. The reasons that he'd changed, the lives that had been lost during his time oversees weren't something he knew how to speak of. He'd also interrupted the internal balance of the loft and it was clear from the beginning. Blaine and Kurt were engaged, Sam and Blaine were best friends, Rachel and Kurt were best friends and he was just sort of there. The fact that Kurt liked him no more than he had in high school did nothing to help.

He had just started looking at getting his own place when things changed. He woke up one morning and was heading out for his daily run when Sam and Blaine declared that they were coming too. His first thought had been to rebuff them. He ran 10 K every day because even if we wasn't on tour at the moment, he was still a Marine and he couldn't seem to break the habit. His body and mind craved the routine. But he'd been a part of a team for so long that he'd found himself adrift and lonely in New York. He'd seen that they were extending an olive branch so he agreed.

He hadn't been surprised to find that neither one of them was up to running more than 5 K but realised they meant business when they kept going. Sam had thrown up in a bush a block from the loft and Blaine was bright purple but neither voiced a single complaint.

So they ran. Every morning he'd meet them at the front door and they ran together. He knew that neither of them particularly enjoyed it so he rewarded them for their efforts by letting them into his life a bit at a time. He told them stories about his tour, his friends and the people he'd met. As the months passed he found himself spending more time with the two of them and sharing the harder truths of his time oversees. Four months after he'd arrived he realised that they'd become his best friends, that he'd been invited into their little circle that no one else had ever been a part of. He no longer stayed away from the loft and he finally felt sort of at home.

Things with Kurt had never really improved, especially after he and Rachel had started sleeping together. He doesn't really remember how it all started between the two of them. She'd been so busy with the last year of Funny Girl that the two of them hadn't spent much time together since he'd moved in. By the time they'd spent any quality time together he was already firmly entrenched in her roommates' lives. No he doesn't remember how they started but he certainly remembered how they ended.

He could recall with perfect clarity the destruction that surrounded them as they'd said or rather screamed goodbye. The living room of their apartment had been destroyed by their tempers just as their relationship had been ruined by their words. He could remember the red roses covered in shattered glass that had rested by his feet and the hole in the drywall behind his head. He could still see the ripped paper that surrounded her; the love notes and songs he'd penned for her during their two years together. That was the moment that they'd been over. The moment she'd ripped up those letters they'd been done. He'd known it and the anger and regret in her eyes screamed that she knew it as well. They stared at each other for a few moments longer but the damage had been done. There was no going back. He'd turned and walked out of their home and never came back. She didn't follow him.

It had been five years since they'd broken each other and now he'd gone and made a fool of himself. Well they'd both done a pretty good job of that if he was being honest. The two of them had always felt things too damn fiercely and it's why everything about their relationship had been volatile, right down to their breakup.

He hadn't expected her to bring a date. Sam and Blaine hadn't mentioned a boyfriend and the look of surprise on Blaine's face had told him what he'd already guessed. She was making a statement. He doubted the guy meant a thing to her but she wanted him to know she was better off without him. Five fucking years and she was still going right for his jewels. They might have made it through the night peacefully if Hummel hadn't been well on his way to drunk and feeling unusually vicious. His breakup with Blaine hadn't gone his way and he'd finally had a chance to exact some revenge. A shit-disturber by nature, he'd uttered enough perfectly placed quips at Puck and Rachel that with the help of a little alcohol, all hell had broken loose.

He shouldn't have called her a psychopathic, heartless succubus. He shouldn't have shouted that he sometimes regretted ever having met her. And he definitely shouldn't have punched her date square in the face.

" _Well, being with you is the greatest mistake I've ever made."_

Yeah, she'd won that one. Because he hated her so much it hurt, but being with her had been the best two years of his life. And nothing before or after had ever come close to encapsulating just how he'd felt when they were together. He'd never loved anything or anyone the way he loved her.

So he'd walked out into the cold, snowy night without a jacket or a real clue about where he was headed. Because those 11 words burned him in a way that he wouldn't allow her the satisfaction of seeing.

It had been five years since he'd last seen her, no small feat as they both still lived in New York, and she was every bit as beautiful as she'd been when she was his. Although there was some debate about whether or not she'd actually ever been  _his_.

But she had been, for the most part. They'd moved out of the loft and gotten a shitty little apartment together. They'd shared a bed, a home and a fucking life together for a while. Until she'd gone and fucked everything up.

Objectively, he knew that they'd shared the fault in what had led up to that final fight. She'd been too busy focusing on her goals and her dreams and  _herself_  the way she always had. It had worn on him, the total lack of awareness that she had for others and for himself sometimes. She lived for herself and when that included him, great; but it didn't all that often. He could own that he'd held too much of himself back from her. It was harder to talk about his tour with her than it was with the guys. They bore the burden of his past quietly and with respect. She always cried and it somehow became about her. It was hard to tell someone about the time you literally held your friend's intestines inside his body only to watch him die anyway. It was harder when they wouldn't stop crying and expecting comfort. So he simply stopped telling her about it. The problem was that the whole thing haunted him and he regularly had to fight the urge to reenlist. He carried survivor's guilt, battle-ready reflexes and no small amount of PTSD and he kept it from her. She resented him for it and he resented her for feeling like he had to.

They stopped eating meals together, cuddling on the couch or talking about their days. The sex was usually anger-induced until they just stopped having it altogether. He was pretty sure that the final fight had been about something so trivial but it had escalated past the point of return. He'd lost his temper and said something he shouldn't have. She had picked up the large vase of flowers he'd given her for Valentine's Day and chucked it at his head. He'd ducked and after marking the wall, the vase had exploded at his feet, showering him with glass and water. He could remember vividly the things they'd called each other before she'd rushed into their room and come back moments later with the box that held his heart.

" _Don't'" His voice was quiet, too quiet and it held a warning that they couldn't come back from what she was about to do._

" _Fuck you, Puck!" The nickname echoed through the apartment as she lifted a letter from the box and ripped it into pieces._

_He wanted to look away but his eyes wouldn't leave the destruction she was reaping. He saw the change in her eyes about ten letters in. He saw the moment where she realised what she'd done and watched as her body shook as she acknowledged the consequences. It didn't stop her from ripping one more letter though and it did nothing to stop his heart from shattering in his chest._

His phone vibrated again and he shivered. His numb fingers fumbled as he shoved them in his pocket in search of the phone. His vision was blurred a bit as he read the text messages that his friends had sent. He got to his feet and slowly walked in the general direction of the hotel.

Forty minutes later he walked into the empty lobby of Lima Bean Inn. The place was only minimally better than the name would imply. He trudged up the stairs to the second floor and fumbled with his key card. The bed looked especially appealing but a glance in the mirror told him he was halfway to hypothermia. He stripped out of his suit and turned the shower on full blast. He stepped into the hot spray and allowed the water to wash away the cold. His drunken mind had decided to fixate on the fight tonight and the one that had happened five years ago.

He collapsed on his bed later and crawled beneath the covers. He closed his eyes and saw her standing furiously in front of him, this time with several witnesses. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And fuck if he didn't still love her the way he always had.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to clarify a few things before I continue with this story.
> 
> First, to everyone who reviewed, thank you for you feedback. I'd like to address a couple common complaints.
> 
> To the reviewers who complained that Rachel is always the villain in my stories: I like to keep the characters at least a little bit in canon. Rachel and Puck are probably the two most improperly used characters on the show. They're forced back into old habits with no respect for character growth whenever it suits the purpose of the writer's new plot. The problem here is that Puck is for the most part an underdeveloped, undefined character which is great for me because it means that his potential is endless and exploring his character is fascinating to me. Where Puck is undefined, Rachel had been overdefined and overused to the point that the only consistence to her character are the negative traits that appear in my stories. For the record I adore Rachel Berry. If I didn't then I wouldn't write Puckleberry. But as long as I keep things a little bit in canon, Rachel will have at least some of the negative traits that the Glee writers have saddled her with. So I take the hand she'd been dealt and write through it, I build her up and explore the character growth that could happen in the future.
> 
> Finally to the reviewers who complained about the angst in my stories: You're not wrong, I love me some angst. But for the record I don't believe that canonical Puckleberry can exist without some angst. I also make sure to tag appropriately and this story was tagged under the angst/romance genres. So Full Disclosure: If you don't like angst then my stories aren't right for you. There are several incredibly talented writers who might meet your needs in a way that I can't.
> 
> Here's Rachel's POV. Thanks for reading.

She held the ice pack to Jeremy's eye and bit back a roll of the eyes. She was an idiot.

She should never have brought him to the reunion. She barely knew the guy and three mediocre dates did not a relationship make. Never mind inviting a virtual stranger to her ten year reunion. She hadn't examined her reasons for inviting him too closely but she imagined they fell somewhere in between spite, pride and a whole lot of anxiety over coming face to face with Noah Puckerman after five years.

She'd met Jeremy a few weeks earlier when she'd come home to celebrate Hanukah with her fathers. They'd met in the supermarket and embarked on a whirlwind (boring) affair. Three days ago she'd woken up in a panic as she realised that she should bring a date. She needed to bring a date if she was ever going to face  _him_ again.

She was rethinking that strategy at the moment as Jeremy nursed a black eye and she was trying not to choke on an unhealthy amount of regret.

She'd expected him to bring a date, someone beautiful enough to make her jealous. She'd expected him to show up and maliciously rub her nose in what she'd willingly given up. But he hadn't because that wasn't who he was. He'd showed up here, in the town he hated more than he hated her. And she was pretty sure he'd done it just for a glimpse of her. Because despite being a stubborn pain in the ass with a weaponized body, he was also a romantic and he'd loved her more than anything else for two years. She'd expected the worst of him and had shown everyone the worst of herself instead. He'd certainly aimed more than a few vicious words her way but she'd always had the edge on him in the fighting department. They knew exactly how to hurt each other but only she was ever horrid enough to go the whole nine yards. He'd snap and he'd fight but never with the same maliciousness. Where he aimed to wound, she aimed to kill.

" _Well, being with you is the greatest mistake I've ever made."_

Yeah that sucked. The worst part was the look in his eyes before he turned around and walked out of the gym. When he'd initially returned from his tour of duty it was impossible to read him. It had taken almost a year of being together before some of those walls came down around her. It turned out that those walls had never fully gone back up. Before the mask went up tonight and he turned away she saw exactly how those words had affected him. He believed them. He believed that she regretted him, that maybe she'd never actually loved him.

And boy did that cause her chest to burn.

She had always loved him, in some way or another and the fact that he doubted it was horrifying.

The two of them had fallen into a relationship all those years ago with no real beginning but a very final end. They'd lived together but by the end they'd been no more than roommates. He'd become so distant and she'd been so wrapped up in her own life that things had finally come screeching to a painful halt. The fact that they loved each other hadn't stopped them from yelling obscenities or herself from throwing his beautiful roses at his head.

She'd spent the last five years fixating on the moment where he'd all but begged her not to take that last step. They'd been living in a world without colour for so long and the fight had made her feel alive. They hadn't even fought in months and it was the first time she'd seen genuine emotion from him. She'd been out of control as she grabbed the box that held her heart and glared up at him. His eyes had warned her but she'd been too consumed with emotion. The sound of the paper ripping had echoed through the apartment along with her disdainful use of his nickname. She'd glanced away from the fourth letter and she was suddenly very cold. His eyes were that of a man who was being burnt alive, tortured by someone he'd trusted, someone he'd loved. And in that moment she realised she'd pushed him too far. Her fingers kept tearing even as her body shook. Her eyes dropped to her feet and tears started to form as she looked at the remnants of his love for her. When he'd walked out she hadn't followed.

So maybe his belief that she meant what she'd said to him earlier wasn't surprising. She'd given him every reason to doubt her.

"I think I should go." She looked blankly at Jeremy and realised she'd been spacing out and the poor guy had taken a punch for her.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled as he walked away from her.

She was sitting in a darkened corner of the gym and her eyes wandered over the garish decorations. Puck had walked out of the building two hours ago. She had been a little surprised that he hadn't hit Kurt as well, since he'd been the one to start the whole thing. She supposed that he'd been too desperate to get away from her.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. Things hadn't always been so toxic between the two of them. They'd been friends in high school and things had been so great between them at the beginning of their relationship. She remembered their first weekend in their new apartment, happily christening every surface and room of their apartment.

The problem was that she'd known him in high school, they'd understood each other in ways that she and Finn had never been able to. When he'd come back from his tour he'd been different. He wasn't the same man as the one she'd once known. She had been too wrapped up in herself and her own life to really try to get to know the new Noah Puckerman. She gritted her teeth as memories washed over her. He'd tried to let her in and it had always hurt her to hear about the things he'd experienced and the people he'd lost. She remembered the look of disappointment that crossed his face the last time he'd really talked to her about the Marines. She'd been crying as she pictured him desperately trying to keep his friend alive and he'd grown too tired to keep comforting her. She hadn't realised until they were over just how much he needed her to comfort  _him_. He'd given her so many opportunities to fix things before they were broken and she hadn't. So he'd burned all by himself, tossing and turning through nightmares out on the couch because he couldn't trust her to take care of him.

Rachel had failed Noah in more ways than even she'd been able to count. She'd been mildly aware of the fact that he was pulling away at first but she'd been too upset with him to investigate. The first week that he'd missed a Funny Girl show she'd been too furious with him to care about why he'd done it. She'd ignored him for a week and when he hadn't shown up the next week either, she'd resented him. She had spent days just picking fights with him and trying to provoke him.

She still remembered vividly her last fight with Kurt before moving out of the loft. He'd yelled that Noah would become that Puck from high school again and if she ever pushed him too far he'd lash out and hit her. But that wasn't the kind of man that he was in high school or after. He'd never been angry enough in his life to lay a harmful finger on her. He'd simply withdrawn. And as the weeks became months she'd ceased to provoke him.

He'd never stopped loving her though. She'd seen it there in his eyes even as they skirted around each other. She'd seen it in his actions when he continued to cook enough food for two, always placing the leftovers in the fridge for her. She known it in the way that his best friends didn't hate her before or after their breakup despite having every reason to.

She'd never loved him enough. Her true love had continued to be exactly who it had always been; herself. And instead of taking pause at the plea that came from his lips that last time, she'd relished in the feeling of being alive. She'd broken his heart. And she'd regretted it every damn day since.


	3. Chapter 3

Puck rested his head against the cool porcelain of the hotel bathtub and gasped for breath. He hadn't been this hung-over since Finn had died. He wasn't young enough for this shit anymore. He flushed the toilet with his foot and ran a shaky hand over his face. He was pretty sure he had somewhere to be in a few hours but for the life of him it hurt too much to remember. His eyes closed and consciousness faded as the cool tile eased the pain in his head.

He awoke with a start as a door was slammed out in the hallway. He climbed into the bathtub and turned on the shower. Sitting in the tub, the hot water chased the rest of the alcohol away.

The clock on his bedside table told him he was already ten minutes late for brunch with Sam and Blaine. By the time the cab pulled up to the diner he was twenty minutes later. He could see his friends grinning at him through the windows as he pushed his sunglasses higher on his nose. He waded his way through the slush and into the diner that he'd spent half of his high school years in. He dropped into the bench across from his friends and signalled the waitress for coffee. The grins on his friends' faces were a bit more strained but he ignored it and they didn't say anything. The waitress was cute and all too young for him so he ignored her flirtations as the men ordered their breakfast. As she walked away he finally raised an eyebrow to let the dorks know he was ready for it.

He was surprised when Sam hit with him "Blaine hooked up with Sebastian Smythe last night," instead.

A surprised bark of laughter escaped him as his other friend blushed heavily. "How the hell did that happen?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. "He was in town for his reunion as well and we ran into each other at the bar afterwards."

Puck didn't remember a lot about Sebastian. His only lasting impressions of the guy were that he had funny hair and a lot of snark. He was certainly less evil than Hummel had turned out to be. He leaned across the table and offered Blaine his fist. Sam snorted as Blaine returned the fist-bump and Puck looked over at him.

"I noticed Quinn is still single." He mentioned lightly before raising his coffee to his lips.

This time Sam blushed. "Oh he noticed. They're having dinner tonight." Blaine supplied.

Puck shook his head in amusement and then nodded in approval. It would seem he was the only fucker who couldn't seem to figure his romantic shit out. And speaking of that…

"So last night sucked for you huh?"

Puck grunted in affirmative. His friends exchanged a glance and his shoulders slumped.

"The two of you still know how to put on a show, that's for damn sure."

His head shot up and he stared at Santana, who'd just ceremoniously dumped herself into the seat next to him. He hadn't seen a lot of her in the last several years. She and Rachel had a falling out over something stupid and she'd moved out before he moved in. The two of them had just barely patched things up by the time he and Rachel broke up. He knew that the two of them were about as tight as they could be so he wasn't entirely sure if her presence was welcome at the moment. His thoughts were apparently clearer on his face than he'd intended because she sighed and tangled her fingers with his under the table. The waitress hurried over and took her order and Santana waited until she was gone before speaking again.

"Did you really see last night going any other way?" She asked him honestly as she stole some of his coffee.

He shrugged. She raised an eyebrow that made it clear that she expected an answer.

"Not really." He muttered before raising his chin defiantly. "I should have kicked Hummel's ass on my way out."

His friends chuckled darkly before Santana smugly announced, "I took care of it. Lady Hummel doesn't have enough makeup to cover up the double shiners I laid on him."

He reflexively squeezed her hand in gratitude. Their food arrived and silence settled comfortably over the table. After a few moments of silence the other three began catching up on what they'd missed in each other's lives. They all lived in New York but there had been an undeniable rift after the breakup. He knew that his friends would be kind if they'd ever run into Rachel but there had been no intentional hangouts since the split. A feeling of guilt fell on his shoulders as he realised just what it had done to all of them.

"When do you head back?" Santana asked him as Sam and Blaine went up to pay the bill.

He shrugged again. "As soon as possible. Tomorrow night probably."

Some unknown emotion flashed through her eyes before she nodded sadly. "We should hang out sometime you know. We all live in the same city. It's lame that this is the first time we've all hung out."

He scraped a hand over his neck, clearing his throat awkwardly. "You're her best friend. I guess I just figured…" He trailed off.

Her eyes were sad as they moved slowly over his face. She placed a hand on his cheek. "You and I were friends first. And she'd never ask me not to be your friend, just like you never asked them not to be hers."

He looked down at his feet before impulsively reaching out and crushing her to his chest. He had missed Santana over the years and by the time he realised it, it had felt like he was too late.

"I miss her, San." He stiffened as the words fell from him lips unbidden.

Santana sighed against his chest. "She misses you too."

His heart clenched in his chest and he cleared his throat before releasing her.

Rachel's eyes were puffy the next morning. She'd fallen asleep crying after having escaped the reunion early. The horrible things they'd said to each other that night and the night five years ago had echoed through her ears. The look in his eyes from both occasions was burned into her mind and she'd cried desperately until sleep had finally come. Her fathers hadn't asked when she'd come home in tears. They knew her past mistakes perhaps better than she did. They'd always liked Noah and their disappointment had been evident when she'd announced that they were over all those years ago.

She rolled over and bumped into Quinn. She hadn't heard her friend come in but it must have been late. Quinn had chosen to stay with the Berrys in favour of dealing with her own family. When she'd left last night she'd seen her blond friend shyly catching up with Sam Evans.

"You look like hell." Quinn told her, not unkindly with worry lacing her tone.

Rachel nodded, laying her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Last night sucked."

She knew that Quinn was very forcefully restraining an "I told you so". Her friend had argued that Puck would never bring a date to the reunion and she was being a brat by insisting on bringing one of her own.

"You were right." She mumbled sadly. "I made a mistake."

Quinn sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "He looked good." She offered conversationally.

Rachel sniffled as a wave of sadness hit her. "He always looks good." She paused. "He looked good right up until the moment I told him I regretted him and then-" Her words cut off with a whimper.

"Then he looked like you'd broken his heart all over again." Quinn finished.

Rachel nodded tearfully against her friend's shoulder.

"You always had a way with words when it came to him, you know." Quinn quietly moved from underneath her and stood beside the bed. Rachel looked up at her friend who was trying not to look stern. "You have to be more careful, Rach. I know that things ended badly and that he hurt you too but-"

"But what I said last night was horrible and unnecessary and-" Rachel added before being cut off by Quinn.

"And a lie." The fact that they both knew he'd believed it went unspoken.

The two women were quiet for the most part after that. They'd eaten a late brunch with her fathers before both men left for work and then puttered around the house for the day. Quinn had announced that she was having dinner with Sam as they watched a movie. Rachel looked at her friend and for the first time realised just what her breakup with Noah had done to those around her. Quinn's excitement was barely contained but it was clear that she was worried about crossing boundaries and that was unfair. She knew that it had hurt both San and Quinn to stay away from Noah but she'd never considered the loss of their other friendships and the possibility of a romantic reunion between two of their friends.

"I'm happy for you." She told her with as much sincerity as she could.

Quinn shot her a dazzling smile before going upstairs to get ready for her date. Rachel ignored the movie as she wondered about how Noah was this morning. She'd hurt him the night before and she wished that she could take it back. She wished that she could take it all back. She was roused from her thoughts by the ringing of the doorbell. She padded through the quiet house and opened the door. Sam Evans stood nervously on her stoop and her breath caught in her chest. She'd missed him more than she'd realised and the way he immediately scooped her into his arms tightly indicated that the feeling was mutual. When they finally parted she was aware of his worried eyes searching her face. His lips pressed together before he looked at his feet.

"Quinn's just getting ready." She told him to ease the tension that had built between the two of them.

He nodded and a smile lit up his face. She stepped away from the door and he followed her into the house. They both sat on the couch and as his gaze settled on her, she began fiddling with her sweat pants with her eyes on her hands.

"How is he?" She asked quietly.

He was silent and probably wondering if she meant in general of after their fight the night before. Her eyes finally raised to meet his own and once again he searched for something on her face before answering her.

"You sure you want an answer to that?" His tone wasn't unkind even if his words were a bit short.

Rachel bit her lip as she considered her answer. Her life would be easier if she didn't know. She could go home and live her life without guilt. But she hadn't really been living since he'd left, since she'd pushed him away.

"More than anything." She breathed out in a rush.

His lips twitched a few times before giving her a real smile. "He works as a studio musician in the City. He's single and too dedicated to his work."

"Did he reenlist?" She'd wondered and worried for years that he might be in some unknown country saving the world and living in danger.

Sam nodded. "He left three days after…" he trailed off.

She'd chased him out of their home and straight into a warzone. Her hand clutched her chest as she fought for breath. Sam was silent as she composed herself.

"And he's still in love with you but you know that already." He raised an eyebrow as if daring her to disagree with him. "You suspected it when you found out he was coming to the reunion and you knew it for sure when you called him a regret."

Tears had begun falling silently as she listened. "I didn't mean it."

"I know."

"I regret just about everything about our relationship but never him. I wasn't-" She paused, searching for the right word. "Good for him then. I was too selfish and I didn't love him enough. He was so different and instead of getting to know him I just lashed out whenever I didn't recognize him. Whenever I hurt him he just withdrew, he didn't fight the way he used to, no matter how hard I pushed. We were too young. I was too young. And then he was gone and all I had were the ripped up reminders of what I'd just lost."

Sam had tensed at the mention of the letters and she realised that he'd told them everything. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she stared at a spot somewhere over his left ear. "I broke both of our hearts that night."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to get a lot of mixed reviews on this one. There are some tropisms but what are you gonna do? But more on that later. Enjoy.

Puck ended the call and thanked his cab driver. He pulled his bag from the trunk and headed into the Columbus airport.

Sam and Quinn's date had gone well and his friends were planning on extending their trips to get reacquainted with Sebastian and Quinn. He was happy for them even if the fear of being the odd man out was niggling deep within his chest.

He checked in and headed for the waiting room. He was late for his flight and they had almost finished boarding when he handed his ticket to the attendant. She pointed to his seat in first class and he stowed his bag in the bin before sitting down in the aisle seat. There was a purse on the window seat so he figured his seatmate must be in the bathroom. He plugged in his headphones and glanced around the cabin. He'd been lucky to get home tonight. There wasn't another free seat on the plane.

He was reading a work email on his phone when a pair of killer legs stepped into view. The owner of those legs gasped at the same moment that he realised just who those legs belonged to. His gaze slowly moved up her body until it met surprised, brown eyes. He closed his eyes and counted to three but she was still there when he opened them. He looked over her shoulder at the exit and realised the plane was preparing for takeoff. She was shifting uncomfortably in front of him when he finally looked back at her. Her eyes were still wide and brimming with so much emotion that he had to look away. He stood silently so that she wouldn't have to crawl over him. She was bumped by the passenger behind her and he hissed when her chest grazed his own as she stumbled forwards. His hand was on her hip, steadying her without his permission to do so. Their eyes met and he couldn't quite catch his breath. She still smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. He closed his eyes against the sensory assault and withdrew his hand. The air shifted as she moved away from him and took her seat.

"Sir, could you please take your seat? We're getting ready to take off."

He threw himself unceremoniously into his seat and snapped his safety belt into place. He stared straight ahead as the plane started to move. He heard a sharp intake of breath beside him and remembered suddenly just how terrified she was of planes. Why did this shit always happen to him? Seriously.

Rachel's eyes were squeezed shut as her mind shut down. What were the odds of her ending up sitting beside Noah on the way home to New York? And when she'd stumbled forward, he'd caught her and the heat of his hand had branded her. She could still feel where his hand had gripped her and her nipples were still erect from when their chests had brushed. Humiliating. Add to that her never-ceasing fear of air travel and it was no surprise that she couldn't get enough air. Her vision was starting to tunnel when she heard a soft oath muttered from beside her and a large, warm hand wrapped around her own small clenched fist. Her eyes popped open in shock and her head whipped around. He wasn't looking at her, instead staring at the seat in front of him like he wanted to disappear into it. But he was holding her hand. And she was breathing normally again. His body was strung tighter than a bow even though his hand was gently holding her own. She stared at him as the plane leveled out and then he wasn't touching her anymore.

"Thank you." She was breathless and her voice was quiet.

He jerked his head in acknowledgment but kept his gaze averted. She couldn't take her eyes off him. His jaw was set tightly and his body looked ready to spring into action. She had no doubt that the action it craved was flight. Her fingers twitched in her lap as she thought about easing the stress lines between his eyebrows with her thumb. His body was the same. The tension that was rolling off of him in waves was new though. His hands were balled into fists in his lap and she heard the telltale 'pop' of his jaw cracking under the pressure.

"I-" At the sound of her voice his eyes snapped shut and she froze.

She had a choice to make. They could sit in painful silence for the next two hours. She could shove her headphones on and ignore the heartbroken man next to her. Or she could use what little time she had apologizing for every way she'd ever wronged him.

She blew out a long breath.

He couldn't relax. His body was tensed to strike and he was tempted to look for a parachute. The very last thing he needed was another blowout. The other night had been public enough. He'd rather not get arrested this time.

"I-" His eyes snapped shut as he waited for the onslaught. She paused and he could just picture her building up her argument. She'd attack and this time he had nowhere to go. Fucking perfect.

"I'm sorry."

He blinked and turned to look at her for the first time since they'd sat down. "What did you say?"

She fought to keep her eyes on his, fingers twisting in her lap anxiously. "I said I'm sorry."

He shook his head slowly. She was fucking with him. This was a trap. Don't say anything. Do not get drawn in. Don't. "For what exactly?"

Damn it.

His lips twitched as he watched her blow out a long, dramatic breath. "For just about everything I've said and done in the last seven years."

"I'm sorry about what I said last night and I'm sorry that I brought a date to the reunion to hurt you." Her voice was sincere but he found himself bristling. Still presumptuous apparently.

"To hurt me? Who says you're even capable of doing that anymore?" He was bluffing and he was 98 % sure that she knew it too.

She ignored his derision. "I shouldn't have said that I regretted ever being with you. I regret how things ended and I regret everything I did to hurt you, intentionally and unintentionally. And-"

He wasn't ready to have this conversation.

She could see him withdrawing and she wasn't sure what to do. She'd thrown a lot at him in the last few minutes and even more in the last seven years. He needed time.

"-And I heard Sam and Quinn's date went well." She supplied, desperate not to lose this time with him.

He jumped at the chance to change the subject and they spent the next two hours carefully discussing only things that didn't involve either one of them. They disembarked together, more to avoid awkwardness than anything else. He waited silently beside her as she grabbed her bags from baggage claim and they headed out the door. She paused when she realised that there was just one cab left and two of them. He sighed softly beside her before stepping forward and opening the door for her. He climbed in after her but sat as far away as the small bench would allow. They both mumbled their addresses to the cabbie and then they were off. Her eyes darted over to him and he looked so very tired. He looked older than his years and she wondered just how much of that was her fault.

She was startled when the cabbie stopped in front of her brownstone. She opened her purse but Noah mumbled that he'd take care of it. She stared hard at him until he finally met her gaze from across the cab.

She knew that she should get out of the cab. She knew that he'd heard enough already and she shouldn't push him. She knew it. But the words slipped past her lips anyways.

"I could never regret you, Noah. I've done nothing but regret how things ended and what I said and did. But you? You, I've never regretted." She whispered fiercely before getting out and hurrying up the steps to her home.

He was stunned by her admission and was barely aware of the cabbie's words.

"Hey! Are you going to sit there with your mouth hanging open like a moron or are you going after her? The meter is still running, Dumbass."

Damn New York cabbies and their free advice. He hesitated for only a moment longer before tossing too many bills at Dr. Phil and running up the steps. The hand that wasn't holding his bag hammered on her front door. The front door opened and Rachel stared tearfully up at him in surprise. He threw his bag behind her and pushed her into the apartment. The door closed behind him as his hand roughly cupped her cheek and he brought his mouth down on hers. She gasped into his mouth as he quickly stripped her of her clothes. His hands trailed over her ass before lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. Their lips continued to battle as he carried her back into her home. He dropped her on her kitchen table and she hastily divested him of his own clothes. She wrapped her legs around him once more and he slid home for the first time in five years. His fingers were ever-moving, teasing her here and there. She screamed into his mouth and his hips were frantic as she clenched around him. His lips moved to latch onto her throat and her legs fought to bring him ever closer. His hands followed a path they remembered and she arched her back with another scream. She chanted his name as he buried his face in her long brown hair and growled out his own release. He panted against her neck as she shook in his arms.

He shouldn't be here and they shouldn't have done that. He knows this, he knows it and yet it doesn't stop him from kissing a trail down her body and burying his face between her legs. He kissed and licked, caressed and sucked until they both lost track of how many times she'd come. She was a quivering mess and barely able to hold herself upright but she was moaning his name. His  _real_ name. And so instead of kissing her goodbye like he should, he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, okay. I know that only some of you are stoked about the (rather light) smut and that probably more of you aren't. Some of you are probably pissed about them falling into bed together. And I tried. I really tried to fit the next chapter in here as well. But there was no way to make it happen. Too much happened in this chapter (despite how short it was) and it would take away the meaning of the next. So this is where I left it. I also want to tweak the final chapter a bit because I don't feel 100% about it yet. So I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And if you didn't? Please don't flame. Graci
> 
> -Lizzy


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel slowly opened her eyes. Her cheek was rested on a patch of scarred, naked chest.

It hadn't been a dream. A smile crossed her lips even as she realised that they needed to actually talk. There hadn't been any talking last night. There had been a lot of screaming and some seriously dirty words mumbled against skin, but no resolution. His arm pulled her closer to his warm chest and he mumbled her name softly in his sleep.

She lifted her head and examined the scar of his chest. It was unmistakably a healed bullet wound and it was about two centimeters shy of his heart. It was a new scar. Her head spun as she realised he'd almost died during his second tour. He'd left and almost died. And rationally she knew that it wasn't her fault, not the almost dying bit anyways but she couldn't seem to catch her breath. Her tension roused him from sleep and his eyes widened before scrambling up and pushing her to place her head between her knees. His fingers ran through her hair, his voice calmly whispering in her ear and her vision started to clear. Tears fell as she calmed down and he pulled her back against his chest when her breathing was under control.

"I'm going to try not to take that personally." He joked, but his voice was tight. Of course he thought she was freaking out about what they'd done. She'd told him mere days before that she regretted him. She _really_ sucked.

She turned in his arms and straddled his covered hips. Her lips raised to meet his own in a chaste kiss before she rested her forehead against his. This was probably as good a time as any. They were both naked and she had him right where he needed to be.

"You got shot." She whispered finally.

He tensed in her arms and she waited until he relaxed a bit. "It happens."

She closed her eyes, refusing to move even an inch away from him but unable to return his gaze at the moment. Her fingers traced over the scar tissue. "Yes, but you could have died."

He was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I almost did."

His honesty hurt her in a way she couldn't quite explain. There was no denial. He had almost died. Her arms went around his shoulders and she buried her face against his neck. "You would have died thinking I didn't love you anymore."

He was tense. So very tense. He didn't say anything but one hand hesitantly rubbed against her lower back.

"If you hadn't made it-" She paused and breathed him in deeply until her lungs protested. "I wouldn't have survived it. It was hard enough living without you all these years but-"

"I didn't die." His tone was firm and in it she heard the warning signs of imminent withdrawal.

She cupped his face and stared into his eyes. "Please don't disappear on me. I know it's my own fault that you do it. I know I was always pushing you too far but we can't fix anything if you do it."

His lips pressed together into a line and she realised that he wasn't sure they could fix anything anyways. She blinked.

"I have spent the last five years missing you. I've overanalyzed every word and every action and I always come to the same conclusion."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"We weren't ready for this. I was too young and impatient and selfish. And you needed more from me, more than I wanted to give, more than I was able to give. And you gave up on me and I don't blame you for it but you did. You just did. We just weren't ready. But that doesn't changed the fact that I loved you then and I love you now." She stared at him, willing him to believe her.

He stared back for a moment before placing his hands on her hips and softly placing her on the bed beside him. "I just." He shook his head. "I just need a minute."

She watched him walk out of the room and for a moment she wondered if he planned on coming back. She stared at the clock and exactly 237 seconds later he returned. He had found his boxers but she took hope in the fact that he wasn't fully dressed and therefore he wasn't just coming back to say goodbye. He paced thoughtfully at the foot of the bed and she watched him from where she knelt covered in a sheet.

"You destroyed me." He told her finally. He kept pacing. "I gave you everything I could and you just fucking ruined me. I reenlisted and even  _they_  couldn't send me far enough away from that apartment." He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "I thought I could forgive you for anything, absolutely anything."

His eyes had hardened and she finished his thought for him. "But then I ripped them up."

He exhaled shakily and nodded without looking at her. "I always thought your use of metaphors were a bit crazy in high school but fuck, that one particularly hurt. That one  _burned._ That one almost killed me."

She wiped at a stray tear as it fell. "I spent days on that floor taping them back together." She choked on a sob as he gazed up at her with wide, surprised eyes. "Santana and Quinn tried to get me out of the apartment for a while and then they tried to help me with it. But I couldn't let them. I had f-fucked everything up and I was the one who'd made the mess so I stayed there until all of them were whole again. But the problem was that no matter how hard I tried to fix them, I couldn't fix us. I couldn't unbreak my heart and I couldn't heal yours."

Puck stood transfixed as Rachel shed light on the days following their breakup. Her fingers were fisted in the sheet that barely covered her naked body and her face was wet with tears.

"I couldn't unbreak my heart and I couldn't heal yours."

"You taped them back together?" She nodded and he stumbled back to lean against the wall behind him. " _All_  of them?"

"It was the least I could do. It was the only thing I had left of you, from you." She ran a shaky hand through her hair. "I didn't perform for weeks. I just sat on the floor in the living room and read the lovely things that you'd wrote to me and cried." She sniffled and gave him a pathetic smile. "I lived there for two years after you left. I just couldn't leave. I kept hoping you'd come back even though I knew you wouldn't, that you couldn't. I took away that option when I ripped those letters. You were gone even before you walked away." She chuckled dully through her tears. "I lost the security deposit because I couldn't make myself fix the wall. It was a reminder everyday of what I'd done and that I needed to be better, kinder and less selfish. I am so sorry. Even if you never forgive me, I need you to know how sorry I am."

He stared at her as his thoughts churned. Finally, his eyes left hers and wandered around the room for the first time. His feet stumbled forwards when he saw a familiar box resting on the top of her closet. He pulled the box down and opened it with shaking hands. He felt tears spill from the corners of his eyes as he picked up a shabby, tearstained, taped together letter. His mouth opened in surprise as the melody came flooding back. The words quietly escaped him and the sound of her muffled sobs blended with his song.

 **When your soul finds the soul it was waiting for**  
When someone walks into your heart through an open door  
When your hand finds the hand it was meant to hold  
Don't let go  
Someone comes into your world  
Suddenly your world has changed forever

 **No there's no one else's eyes**  
**That could see into me**  
**No one else's arms can lift**  
**Lift me up so high**  
**Your love lifts me out of time**  
**And you know my heart by heart**

 **When you're one with the one you were meant to be find**  
**Everything falls in place, all the stars align**  
**When you're touched by the cloud that has touched your soul**  
**Don't let go**  
**Someone comes into your life**  
**It's like they've been in your life forever**

 **No there's no one else's eyes**  
**That could see into me**  
**No one else's arms can lift**  
**Lift me up so high**  
**Your love lifts me out of time**  
**And you know my heart by heart**

 **So now we've found our way to find each other**  
**So now I found my way, to you**

 **No there's no one else's eyes**  
**That could see into me**

 **No there's no one else's eyes**  
**That could see into me**  
**No one else's arms can lift**  
**Lift me up so high**  
**Your love lifts me out of time**  
**And you know my heart by heart**

 **And you know my heart by heart**  
**And you know my heart by heart**  
**And you know my heart by heart**

His voice trailed off as he picked up another letter. It was clear that these papers had been held often over the years. He felt the knot inside his chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, loosen just a bit. He read the words to the song in his hand quietly.

 **There comes a time, a time in everyone's life**  
Where nothing seems to go your way  
Where nothing seems to turn out right  
There may come a time, you just can't seem to find your place  
For every door you open, seems like you get two slammed in your face  
That's when you need someone, someone that you can call.  
And when all your faith is gone  
Feels like you can't go on  
Let it be me  
Let it be me  
If it's a friend that you need  
Let it be me  
Let it be me

"I stopped writing you know." He told her after reading some of the other pages.

She was silent and he finally turned to face her. Her face was red and her eyes were filled with remorse. The sight caused the strangest mix of pain and relief. She said nothing.

"It's not that I didn't have inspiration. I had enough rage and hurt to fill a thousand pages." That was the truth. He placed the box safely back in her closet. "The problem was that no matter how hurt I was, no matter how much I hated you sometimes, I just couldn't write badly about you."

Her brown eyes filled with hope and he cracked a half-smile. "Because I never hated you as much as I love you."

Bed-sheet forgotten, she scrambled up to her knees. "Love?" Her eyes were wide and she was just so fucking beautiful. "As in present tense?"

She burst into tears as the first real smile in five years lit up his face. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. "Past, present and future, Baby." His lips met hers hungrily and for the first time in a long time he believed in happy endings.

Life together wasn't perfect. They both still had wicked tempers and they were both still deeply flawed. Rachel still struggled to control her feelings when Noah talked about the wars he'd fought in and he still struggled with being so honest with her. She was still sometimes selfish and he was still tempted to disengage but they'd learned from past mistakes.

Their friends had been thrilled when they'd come home to New York. Puckleberry was a go and the group was back together again. Sebastian had become a permanent fixture within the group. It turned out he too had lived in New York all along. Quinn and Sam were married nine months later, neither was interested in wasting any more time together.

And when that twenty year reunion came around they all stayed in New York. The only ones worth seeing were a part of the family they'd built there together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. The songs used were "Heart by heart" by Demi Lovato and "Let it be me" by Ray Lamontagne. It may have felt a little too quick, but for me the problem was always those letters. I think the two of them said it all. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> It would seem that I'm only able to write angst-filled Puckleberry fics. But this one isn't like any of the others I've done. Rachel's up next. Let me know what you think. Thanks.


End file.
